


no holy ghost

by HeartHarps



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-03-26 20:17:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13865253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartHarps/pseuds/HeartHarps
Summary: "I think I heard a good man sayGod is love and love has made usBut have you seen the news todayI have and I think God is gone away"-Noah Gundersen





	1. Family

**Author's Note:**

> A light-hearted get-together fic. Lots of dialogue and characters. Plot is shallow and wide.
> 
> Content Warnings: Pararibulitis is not an active plot point. Nobody names their kid Panto or Litzibitz. You know what Todd did. Liberties taken with project abilities, fashion, timelines, and the stream of creation concept.

“ _They escaped_.”

“Right. Thank you,” Dirk said into the phone, making a point to sound polite when he did not want to sound polite. He hung it up and the let the phone scuttle across the table as he turned to Mona. “There's something you need to know.”

 

+

"Turn this shit off," Todd called to the couch area, where Tina, Farah and Amanda were watching some talk show on which they were interviewing some vapid celebrity. He was returned a chorus of shushes. He rolled his eyes and grabbed a beer out of the fridge.

"Where's mine?" Tina asked when Todd sat down. He moved to go back before she called him off. "I'm kidding! Two weeks sober, remember?"

Todd remembered a lot less conviction from when he had met Tina a couple days prior. "Right," He confirmed anyways, and Amanda shushed him again.

" _—you know Mona Wilder_?" Todd heard Jimmy Kimmel say. The camera cut to the airhead of the hour—Dirk Gently.

“ _I_ _do know Mona,_ ” He divulged. The celebrity was wearing a yellow leather jacket and a tie with flamingos on it. His hair was perfectly coiffed and as Todd swigged his beer, he could see the stage makeup in the close-up. " _She's one of my best friends. Can I—Can I talk about the book? Lovely. We actually met a couple years ago when we were both approached to be a part of a very cool project, of which I am so proud._ ”

The screen suddenly cut to an image of the book’s cover and the sound of the audience cheering played. It was a minimalist illustration of a vague black silhouette, with a red heart and the white words ‘Supernatural: Beyond the Science’ pasted on top.  The style, font, and muted colours called back to the graphic design of the late 20th century, but it still looked modern and polished.

“ _Yes, so, in the 50s, Watson and Crick wrote_ Science and the Supernatural,” Dirk Gently explained, “ _It's fantastic, and things got a lot better for superhumans after it was published. It outlines some useful, relevant definitions like, what is supernatural, what is an anomalous entity, et cetera. And in the 20th century, this kind of thing was very contemporary. Today, anything useful and relevant is always very personal. So the sequel,_ Supernatural: Beyond the Science _, is all personal accounts from superhumans that are alive today_.”

“ _Wow, that's incredible. Can you tell us a bit about your part_?”

“ _I talk about my life, my perspective on superhumans, that sort of thing_.”

“ _And Dirk, you mentioned that the original actually helped the social status of superhumans. That was also part of the motivation for this book, too, right? The controversy around superhuman rights? What’s your take on that_?”

" _The keyword here is human_ ," Dirk Gently said, looking a little annoyed but sincere. " _I am a human, and the UN will back me up on that_."

The audience laughed, but it was true. In the past 5 years, discourse concerning superhumans had flared up, so the United Nations began more vocal support for superhumans and the International Council of Science's Superhuman Program.

Dirk looked to the audience. " _What I want to know is when will we stop entertaining these people who claim this or that group aren't actually human? Because they're women or gay or black or Jewish. Every single time we have concluded, as a society, that humans are humans. We have to spread the message of education and acceptance, or we are going to waste generations killing each other for no reason._ "

Jimmy paused for the audience to cheer. Todd rolled his eyes for no one. " _Is that, like, a psychic thing_?" Jimmy asked. Superhumans didn't exactly go around doing card tricks and shapeshifting, so if Jimmy Kimmel could get a real live psychic thing, ratings would skyrocket.

Dirk considered. " _I'd like to think I'd act with the same conviction if I wasn't, but being so in tune with the deeper nuances of the universe has shaped me so much, I honestly don't know who I'd be if I wasn't, you know, who I am_."

Jimmy gave a little laugh, dreams falling back to earth. " _Wow, thank you so much. Dirk Gently everybody._ Supernatural: Beyond the Science _out November 1st. Don't go anywhere, we've a new single from the Rowdy 3 after the break_!"

Not news to anyone in the room, Amanda pounded the mute button and announced, “I’d like him to read _my_ mind.”

“His boyfriend would love that,” Farah mused quietly, but Amanda, Todd, and Tina all looked at her. “What?”  
“He doesn’t have a boyfriend,” Todd said, perhaps a little too defensively.

“How do you know?”

Todd waved vaguely at the commercials. “What about that—that girl, Mona Wilder.”

Farah gave him a look. “He said they were friends.”

“She’s an actress,” Amanda called, scrolling madly on her phone. “She only dates co-stars. It’s part of her holistic schtick.”

“I don’t think that’s what that is,” Todd countered, but no one seemed to care. Tina and Amanda started arguing about Wilder’s latest movie, something called _Project Marzanna_ , and Farah just smiled softly at Todd.

He got up to get another beer.

-

Todd had read _Science and the Supernatural_ in a high school law course, for an essay about human rights. The gimmicky "sequel" promised to have none of the facts and figures the original had done so well, which was why Todd was _not_ going to read it. "Dirk Gently doesn't need the money," He told Farah when she asked. She rolled her eyes and bought him a copy for his birthday. Amanda got him a new guitar strap.

"I thought you might like the new Rowdy 3 album, but Farah called me off," Amanda admitted.

Todd thanked Farah later.

 

+

Birthday dinner with his parents was dismal. No, he wasn't dating anyone. No, he wasn't going to church yet. (Or ever, he didn't tell them.) No, he hadn't started saving. No, he hadn't been promoted. No, he didn't want to quit working at The Plaza Hotel because it's The Plaza Hotel, Mom. No, they didn't have to start worrying about Amanda. Sure, he'd be around for Christmas. Amanda wasn't there to blabber about her college friends, Pinky and Silas, or the Rowdy 3 or the jazz band she’d started drumming for. Time seemed to stretch on forever, and Todd was forced to think on the paradox of his parents being very much married, in love, and Christian, and still being very terrible parents. Of course, he couldn't think on this for long before he remembered he deserved terrible parents, and worse.

 

+

"What did you think of _Beyond the Science_?" Farah asked, at Amanda's New Years party.

Todd wondered how long he could suspend her disbelief. He gave a blank stare. Then, "It was good."

"I knew it."

"Dirk Gently was...underwhelming. I liked Project Miru the most," He admitted, referring to the project name the Superhuman Program gave one subject who could literally see dead people.

"Being a medium is my dream job," Farah acknowledged. "But you're more of a shapeshift into a chair for 6 years kind of person."

"Hey!"

-

"So." Lizzie said, pulled Todd out of a trance as he perched on the kitchen counter, away from the crowds. He blinked as she leaned against the sink and sipped her champagne. "What's your deal?" She asked. Amanda had introduced Lizzie earlier as her girlfriend. With pink hair to match her brother's and a electric blue flannel, he wasn't sure how Amanda's commitment to the punk aesthetic was going to hold up in this relationship.

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "What do you do?"

Todd sighed. "I'm a bellhop at The Plaza and I hang out with my sister's friends."

Finally having something to work with, Lizzie smiled. "The Plaza? Cool," She said earnestly, nodding and taking another sip.

Todd went on. "Yeah well, it's gala season so I never get to go home, basically."

"Oooh, I bet you meet a lot of celebrities."

Todd shook his head. "Not really."


	2. Celebrities

“And she was like, 'I bet you meet so many celebrities,’” Todd mocked, “And I was like, 'Yeah, one time I got to scrape Tom Hardy's gum off the marble floor.’”

Rosa snickered as she reorganized the bellhops’ desk they were chained to. “She'd be so jealous of the mud I had to clean after Katy Perry’s Louboutins tracked it through the lobby.” She was one of the only people Todd could actually tolerate of those he worked with.

“Yeah, really, like—”

"Brotzman!" The Plaza manager Palacios barked, and Todd shot out of his chair, burying all thoughts of tolerability. "Do you own a tuxedo?"

"...Uh—"

"Rent one. I need you out front for El Museo tonight," He announced, referring to one of the biggest events of all of gala season.

"Mr. Palacios, I really can't—"

"Time and a half."

"...Double time."

"Time and three quarters."

"Can I expense the rental?"

"Fine."

"Done."

Rosa gave him a look when he deflated back into his chair. “ _ I _ own a tuxedo.”

“You wouldn't stay late if he offered you his job.”

“I would if I got to wear a tux.”

“Don't you have, like, three separate birthday parties to go to tonight?”

She looked away and reached for a stack of forms. “Maybe so.”

-

Todd discerned quickly that 'out front' meant standing behind the people who actually owned tuxedos, running messages and errands as Palacios ordered. There was just a small chance he'd end up in some photographs, and Palacio felt the bellhop getup was a bit garish for El Museo. Todd was thankful just to be out of his regular uniform, to be honest. Not to mention he'd have a decent amount for Amanda this month.

There was another half hour before El Museo would be underway when Palacios told Todd, "There's a bottle of Kistler Chardonnay arriving, dock 2, right now. It needs to be in the Penthouse, ASAP."

"Yes, sir."

Todd carried the wine like it was his own child, to the elevators and up 20 floors to the penthouse. The rustic wooden box drew lines on his hands. He ignored it. Arriving outside the room, Todd told the bodyguards waiting there, "Delivery."

They nodded and knocked on the door for him. "It's open!" Someone inside called, in an accent Todd didn't bother to place. He maneuvered inside, focusing on not dropping the box and getting inside and—

"Hiiiii," The occupant said.

Todd looked up, then froze in place.  _ This can't be happening _ .

Dirk Gently stood up. He motioned to the wine chiller on the coffee table as he stepped around it. "Here's fine." Todd just watched, perplexed, unable to process, when Dirk Gently proceeded towards him and went into the bathroom. Todd should have—would have—known if Dirk Gently was here. Maybe the fact that he was in just a white tee and dress pants was throwing Todd off. He continued to stare as Dirk Gently took a pressed white shirt off a hanger and slipped it over his shoulders. Looking back out of the bathroom, he asked, "Are you alright?"

Todd jumped, but kept a firm grasp on the box. "Yes! I'm fine."  _ Shit! Stop acting like an idiot! _

Dirk Gently didn't look convinced, but turned his attention to buttoning up.

Todd had to shake a little to get himself moving again.  _ Just get this over with _ . He managed to cross the room, unpack the wine, and bury it in the bed of ice. "I apologize for the wait," Todd said as he worked. Some of the hay cushion in the box had spilled, so he set to picking that up.

"There was no wait," Dirk Gently said, strolling out of the bathroom. He looked almost offended. "You arrived precisely when I intended you too."

Todd's fingers stopped around a piece of hay. "...Right," He agreed, because you were supposed to agree with celebrities, and continued placing individual straws into the box.  _ What a prick _ .

Dirk Gently examined the suit jacket laid across the giant bed, then turned around. Todd looked away. Two pieces of hay later, Dirk Gently asked, "Are you almost finished there?"

_ Seriously? Rude _ . "No," Todd said, but he almost was so he stood up.

"Right," Dirk Gently said, moving to the closet. "What's your name?"

"Todd." His heart thumped as he said it, knowing bellhops were to be seen, not heard, and never named unless there was a complaint in order.

Dirk Gently grabbed something and shut the closet. "Come here," He said casually. Todd did. Now he could see Dirk Gently had two ties, a long, skinny one in black silk, and an undone bowtie, because he was holding them up for Todd to see. "I stared at these all day and broke my social sensibilities. Which one says… Hm,” He paused, seeming to get lost.

Todd was barely thinking as he finished, “ _ I belong here and the UN will back me up on that _ ?" He quoted.

Dirk Gently looked at him, coy but a little skeptical. “Yes. I suppose that works.”

Todd didn’t react, just pointed to the bowtie.

"Alright then," Dirk Gently said, and tossed the tie behind him. "Can you tie it?"

_ No _ . "Uh. Yeah."  _ I wish I couldn't _ .

Dirk Gently didn't move. Neither did Todd, who wasn't entirely sure what was expected of him in this situation Dirk Gently moved his head a little. Todd mirrored. Eventually, Dirk Gently rolled his eyes and asked, "How much do I have to tip you for you to tie it for me? I love Ed and Ned but their fingers are a bit...meaty."

Todd got it. "Oh! N-nothing," He said, stepping closer and taking the tie. It really wasn't that odd of a request, especially considering he'd seen who he assumed were Ed and Ned waiting. He went up on his toes to bring it around Dirk Gently's neck.

He could tell Dirk Gently was staring down at him as he worked the tie under the collar. Todd smoothed it down. He centered the tie. He couldn't help himself. "Are you religious?" Todd blurted out, daring a quick look up and then down.

Todd thought Dirk Gently looked surprised but not angry. Mostly intrigued, he mumbled, "I don't think I've ever been asked that before."

_ Shit. What am I doing? _ "I read your book, and I was raised Christian, and it felt like I was reading one of those spiritual journey books where the moral is 'believe blindly', and I was surprised you didn't even mention organized religion when the whole superhumans deal is very..." Todd pulled the bow tight and finished, "Cult-like."

Todd stepped back. Unsure what to do, he waited as Dirk Gently stared at him, then asked, "Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Believe."

Todd's throat was thick. When he spoke, it was hardly above a whisper. "I don't know."

For some reason, Dirk Gently smiled. "I'm not religious."

Todd found his breath. The conversation seemed stupid now. "Right. Sorry. I should go."

Dirk Gently didn't answer, just wore a smirk and moved for his jacket. Todd collected the box. "It was nice to meet you, Todd," Dirk Gently said.

"And you, Mr. Gently."

He scoffed. "Call me Dirk, please."

Todd just nodded and excused himself.

 

+

Simultaneously feeling embarrassed and convinced that Dirk Gently was a ridiculous person, Todd went about work as usual, trying not to think too much about anything. He took coats and carried bags and let Palacios feel important. A couple hours into the actual event, he and Palacios migrated into the ballroom. He started doing a lot of standing by a wall and watching.

People, so many people. Some famous people, but the crowd was mostly New York socialites. Todd recognized some Broadway people, big local business owners—yeah, there was Mona Wilder.

Todd tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. He looked away. He had to focus on scanning objectively. But no matter how long he scanned, his eyes kept flitting back to where he'd seen Mona—where she was no longer.

He caught himself wondering if he would see Dirk, too.

"Todd!" He heard a voice say, in an all-too-recognizable accent, and he didn't have to wonder anymore.

Todd turned to find Dirk picking his way over, drink in hand. "Mr. Gently," Todd greeted, unsure of why Dirk would approach him, here.

Dirk smiled, pink cheeks shaping up. "I told you to call me Dirk, but  _ whatever _ ," He said, taking a sip and looking around. "Oh, Estevez, hi!" Dirk called to somebody. He waved and then looked back to Todd, smiling.

"Do you need something?" Todd dared to ask. Dirk was solidly drunk, and that only made Todd more nervous around him.

"Yes! Thank you, Todd." Dirk took Todd by the shoulder and leaned in closely. "I need to ask a question about this hotel."

Todd thought he sounded, serious, but wasn't sure. "Okay."

"...How many floors does it have?"

"... Twenty?"

"Brilliant!" Dirk yelled, breaking out of their huddle. "Come with me. I've decided on your tip," He ordered. He grabbed Todd's hand and started pulling him into the dance floor. Todd looked around nervously, checking if Palacios could see him.

"Dirk I—" Todd had started, but when he'd looked back he was face to face with Mona Wilder.

"Mona, darling, this is Todd."

"Hi!" She greeted, and stuck out her hand. The huge tulle skirt of her powder blue gown brushed against Todd's legs as he shook it.

Todd accepted, looking between Dirk and Mona and trying not to freak out. "Hello, Ms. Wilder I'm a big fan."

She just smiled. "Thank you!"

All three of them looked around as the music changed from some pop song to a slow ballad. Dirk touched Mona's shoulder. Todd started to move, eager to get off the dance floor until Dirk's other hand found Todd. "You two should dance. Todd is an excellent dancer," He claimed, though Todd had no idea why.

"Oh—"

"No thank you," Mona said, and swished away.

Dirk looked a little shocked.

"It's okay—" Todd started, but Dirk was resolved.

"No. I promised you a dance," He said, even though he hadn't. Dirk grabbed Todd’s arm and pulled him out into the crowd of swaying couples.

"No, no, no," Todd protested quietly, but nevertheless Dirk put his hands on Todd shoulders and started dancing. Todd breathed. "Dirk."

Dirk gave him a look. "Relax."

Todd shot a nervous glance around. His brain racked, trying to find a justification for the panic in his stomach, but he couldn't find one. So his heart slowed. Todd's breathing regulated. He unlocked his knees and let himself be danced with. 

Dirk smiled when Todd slipped his hands onto Dirk's hips. Todd blushed and looked away, then door at the floor. “What?” Dirk whispered.

Todd gave him a look. “I feel out of place.”

Dirk considered that as they floated amongst the other dancers. “You look like you fit right in.”

“This is a rental,” Todd admitted.

“Oh I know,” Dirk countered, then promised, “But no one else does.”

That made Todd laugh. He couldn't help it, his insides felt so light as they stepped and swayed.

At the end of the song, Dirk excused himself. Todd found Palacios, who hadn't noticed his absence. The manager told him to take off and get some sleep, so he did.


	3. "Journalists"

Todd got one week. Seven whole days of no Dirk Gently. No bellboy errands, no interviews, no black tie dances. They were seven quiet but boring days.

 

I hate group chats

AmanDUHH sent a photo.

[IMG: A high-quality watermarked candid of Dirk Gently and Todd Brotzman dancing very closely, dressed in black tie and surrounded by other couples dressed similarly. Dirk is smiling and Todd is laughing, looking delighted.]

AmanDUHH: Todd “i hate dirk gently” Brotzman everyone

farahway changed the nickname for Todd Brotzman to Todd “I Hate Dirk Gently” Brotzman.

lizard person: W H A T

teeny tina: GSGAAKSKSG

Pink Panther theme song: i support this

AmanDUHH: @Todd remember when I asked you how the gala went and you said and i quote “uneventful”

God and Anime on my Silas: :o

 

On the eighth day, Todd woke up to the incessant buzzing of his phone.

 

+

Elle.com: _Dirk Gently’s Mystery Date We’re All Jealous Of_

Let's be honest, drinking and dancing around the Plaza in a gorgeous outfit with superhuman-super-hottie Dirk Gently sounds like fun to anyone. This was reality for one special guy last week at the El Museo spring fundraiser last week. 

The red carpet pics were live-tweeted by the museum, where it looks like America’s Favorite Psychic came alone, but the official photographs that were just released tell another story. Late into the night, Dirk was snapped dancing with someone who looks like he's having the time of his life. 

Who is this mystery guy? We have no idea. He's hardly in the pictures and no one knows who he is. Dirk Instagrammed his outfit for the night, snapped a selfie with super-BFF Mona Wilder for his story, and tweeted about the event, but never mentioned a mystery date.

Whoever he is, whatever game he’s playing, I hope he had fun. And if things don't work out with Dirk, hit me up.

 

RELATED ARTICLES:

Will Dirk Gently cameo in Wilder’s  _ Project Marzanna _ ?

Wilder talks exercise and philosophy: “I’m a holistic actress”

What’s What of Gala Season NYC 2018

 

+

Todd didn't step two steps inside the back door of The Plaza before Rosa blocked his path with a shit-eating grin. “Remember when I asked you how El Museo went and you said it was fine?”

“No,” Todd deflected, swerving around her.

Rosa followed. “Well I do and you did and  _ why didn't you tell me _ ?” She hissed as they stormed into the staff room. Everyone looked at Todd.

He pulled Rosa into the storage room where less people hung out. It was empty, for now. “It wasn't a big deal,” Todd confessed.

She didn't buy it at all. She breathed. “Okay. Seeing him would have been a big deal. You should have told me if you had  _ seen _ Dirk Gently. And you  _ danced _ with him?”

Todd breathed. “We talked, he wanted to dance, and now I'm never gonna see him again. No big deal.”

 

+

Todd had seven days of incessant questions, passive aggressiveness, and euphemisms.

 

He had time, Todd told himself, as he strolled through the lobby. His shift didn't start for another 20 minutes.  _ I can still _ —

His train of thought was halted as Rosa waved to him from the bellhops’ desk across the way. Todd gave her a look but went over. 

“Yes. Of course,” She said into the phone, while waving a sticky note with her free hand. When Todd was close enough, he grabbed it.

_ Todd: Dirk Gently Penthouse ASAP _

He looked at Rosa; she couldn't be serious.

“We take your experience very seriously here at The Plaza,” Rosa said, staring into Todd's eyes. “I'll see to that personally. Thank you!”

 

On the eighth day, Todd woke up to the fact that this was  _ not _ no big deal.

-

_ Knock knock knock _ . 

“It's open!”

A bodyguard opened it for him. Todd slipped into the penthouse—having to halt quickly to avoid the path of a very speedy woman. She shot him a dirty look as she breezed into the bathroom and shut the door.

“Sorry!” Todd called, and proceeded with caution into the room.

“Don't worry about Sana,” Dirk said, suddenly appearing very close to Todd. The door clicked shut behind him. “Come here.”

Todd had no choice but to follow as Dirk grabbed his hand and pulled him into the main room. There was a layer of clothes on the bed; the shirts, pants, and accessories looked haphazardly arranged.

Todd only managed to pull his eyes off it when Dirk stepped in front of him. “I’m on The Daily Show tonight for  _ Beyond the Supernatural _ . We're getting good reviews and I kind of want to rub it in everyone's faces. Just a little bit,” Dirk admitted matter-of-factly, neither pride nor jubilance painting his demeanor.

Todd breathed. “Like, ‘you're paying for my yacht by watching this’, or, ‘you're just mad because I'm beautiful’?” 

Dirk considered. “I don't own a yacht, but the first one.”

Todd nodded. He stepped around Dirk to survey the clothes. There were jackets and pants and patterned ties in every colour. He processed for a minute before running one hand over a jacquard blazer. The print was psychedelic paint splashes in shiny purples and blues, with wide black lapels and cuffs, and a single button. When Todd looked at Dirk, he was smiling. “ _ This _ is nice,” Todd remarked. He reached for the jacket— _ Tom Ford _ , he read—with one hand and a white dress shirt with the other, asking, “Can you try this on?”

Dirk nodded, unzipping his plain grey hoodie. Todd’s brain was starting to consider becoming embarrassed—then his breath caught in his throat. “Are you okay?” He had to ask, as Dirk revealed a scar on his shoulder. It was circular like a gunshot wound, but bigger and ragged.

“Oh, that?” Dirk said as he quickly pulled the dress shirt over his head. “It's nothing. Long story.”

_ A long story means it's not nothing _ , Todd caught himself thinking, as he gathered a pile of pants, a belt and a tie. 

“Do you mind?” Dirk asked, raising the jacket. Todd shook his head and took it. He unbuttoned it as Dirk turned around, then lifted and slid the jacket over Dirk's shoulders. Todd walked around as Dirk buttoned it up. Todd flattened the collar, sliding his hands down the lapels, feeling the rich, creamy fabric beneath his calloused fingertips. 

“Hm,” Todd noised, stepping back and considering the concept. Despite the sweatpants that hung beneath it, the jacket looked good. Really good. But something was missing…

Todd snatched a black bowtie and slung it quickly around Dirk's neck.

“How do you feel about the concept of 'hate sex’?” Todd asked as the words came into his head.

Dirk gave him a look. “Unfavourable.”

Todd nodded, whipping the tie off. “Try this one instead. Leave 'em wanting more,” He ordered, retrieving a brilliant black button-down from the pile.

-

When Sana finally emerged again from the bathroom, Dirk was modelling the complete ensemble for the mirror and Todd was tossing clothes between piles on the bed. “What's all this about?” She asked, sinking into the couch. Between the burgundy bellhop monstrosity and the jacquard blazer, her Juicy tracksuit had become informal.

Dirk turned to admire his backside. “Todd, this is Sana Zhao, or Project Elli to the ICSU,” He droned.

Todd smiled and nodded. 

Sana grimaced at him. Then, when her phone buzzed, she sat up straight with a look of shock. “Ohmygod. Andrew Rannells is throwing a watch party for The New Normal Season 2 Premiere tonight,” She announced, bouncing a little on the spot.

That got Dirk's attention, though he was much more neutral. “That's fun! Oh, but I was supposed to—no matter,” He cycled, turning to Todd, “How do you feel about the Radio Revolution Tour?”

Todd’s heart skipped a beat at the name. “Against Me! opening for Green Day? It's my dream concert,” He admitted colloquially. Sana looked at him weird for a second, then returned to typing furiously on her iPhone.

Dirk walked over to Todd and surveyed his work, nodding. “Well done, Todd. The passes are in the bag by the door. Grab them on your way out, and tell Billie I say hi.” 

Then Todd was being hugged by a $7 000 jacket and he was trying not to breathe on it. When the Tom Ford was out of his face he managed, “Sure. Thanks.”

Dirk smiled. “Always lovely to see you, Todd.”


	4. Anomalous Entities

Unknown

Unknown: How was the show?

Todd: who is this?

Unknown: Dirk Gently, silly

Todd: oh right lol

Todd: the show was awesome!!! thanks again!!!

Dirk: It was the least I could do.

Todd: how did u get my number tho? lol

Dirk: It wasn't a psychic thing.

Todd: and here you almost had a believer on your hands

Dirk: No, I just have connections

Dirk: Lol. That's not how it works

Todd: how does it work?

Todd: sorry. stupid question

Dirk: Not a stupid question, just hard to xplain over text

Dirk: Next time im at the plaza :)

Todd: ok lol

Dirk: U like working there?

Todd: between the managers and the guests, it can be a lot. But sometimes you get a good one :)

Dirk: :)

 

+

DailyMail.com: Dirk Gently avoids  _ Marzanna  _ controversy on Daily Show

The whole audience swooned when Dirk Gently graced the Daily stage. That jacket was a showstopper and his pants aren't getting any looser—but neither are his lips.  Controversy surrounding the upcoming film  _ Project Marzanna _ , starring Gently's 'best friend’ Mona Wilder, started when anonymous rumours surfaced claiming that the movie is based on a true story and a real superhuman. A bloodthirsty super going unchecked—Marzanna makes for a great plot but a terrible PR stunt. The last thing the superhuman rights campaign needs is the government protecting rogue assassins.

Last night, Trevor Noah was quick to bring up the rumours, but Gently said next to nothing, hardly even denying them. Looks like he doesn't want to get involved. We'll forgive him because he's cute.

 

RELATED ARTICLES:

These Superhuman Friendships are Goals

Mona Wilder's Best Outfits in 2017

_ Project Marzanna  _ Stars Mona Wilder and Dev Patel cancel appearances left and right

 

\+ 2 weeks later

Dirk

Dirk: Back in town. You working tomorrow?

Todd: yeah @ 3

Dirk: Can you meet me in the penthouse at 1pm?

Todd: sure!

Dirk: Alright it's a date :)

Todd: :)

-

Adam Rippon’s left nipple

Brotz Toddman sent a photo.

[IMG: A screenshot of Todd’s recent SMS conversation with Dirk.]

lizard person: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

teeny tina: GET IT T-DOG

Pink Panther theme song: nice!!!!!!!!

Farah changed the nickname for Todd Brotzman to Todd “It's A Date” Brotzman.

AmanDUHH: holy SHIT

AmanDUHH: OH MY GOD

God and Anime on my Silas: :o

 

\+ Tomorrow, in the penthouse, 1pm

"Here we go. You read  _ Science and the Supernatural _ ,” Dirk prefaced across the tiny cafe table someone had dragged next to the tall window in the penthouse. The midday sun was just out of sight and the city, still dusted in snow, stretched below him.

"Yeah," Todd confirmed as he stirred his coffee. There were two mugs and a few plates of snacks on the table, but Dirk didn’t seem to be in the mood for consumables.   
"That's not it at all,” Dirk said, and Todd caught himself thinking,  _ Of course it isn’t _ and rethinking his outfit choice at the same time. Todd's cable-knit and jeans seemed tame compared to Dirk’s turquoise leather jacket and printed tie. “Watson and Crick—they got the physics and the  _ how _ . But they don't look at the why."

Todd didn’t like the sound of that. "’Why’? Like, someone did this on purpose?"

Dirk considered. Then, "No not really. Alright, this is going to sound weird, but just try to process the idea. I’ve talked with a bunch of people about this, and lots agree with this model."

Todd nodded. 

"Let's take the conceptual idea of creation and the universe, and imagine it's a stream. Like a river. And your physical location in the stream is a holistic description of your life. And most people are rocks. They sit at the bottom, and life  _ happens to _ them. They stay in one place, one body; they only experience it from one state, as life washes over them. But some people aren't rocks, they're more like... Leaves."

"Leaves?"

"Leaves in the stream of creation."

"...Right."  _ Is this really happening? _

"Example. You will always have a human body—spare the robot age—but Mona is moving around the in stream, moving from body to body. Sana can see what will flow over some rocks in the future. Dayo floats by people who are inherently good… Is this making any sense?”

“Strangely, yes.”

“Carlos can see rocks that are dead.”

“Um.”

“I’m working on that one.”

Todd nodded, then decided to speak “So you can, what, read rocks minds?”

Dirk considered that too. Then, “Not at all. Bear with me. The other aspect of our universe-stream is that everything is connected. Like water conducting energy from every point to every other point, or ripples spreading on the surface. That’s why your position is holistic. Every part of you culminates into one singular being. The thing that makes me superhuman is that I can find these connections better than most. I do things without knowing how or go places without knowing where. And I find stuff. Clues, really, that relate to some bigger picture. I only predicted those football matches because I was taking down an international crime ring that was betting on them.”

It felt unexpected but Todd wasn't surprised at all. Before this moment, he thought Dirk's job was just Being A Celebrity, but this actually made more sense. “So you're like some kind of…holistic…detective?”

Dirk's head tilted at that. “Holistic detective? I rather like the sound of that.”

“Like how Mona is a holistic actress, right? Is that how that works?”

“Exactly,” Dirk confirmed, and they looked at each other, sitting amongst the validation and sweets. “Does that answer your question?”

“I think so. I’ll—I’ll do some processing.”

“Brilliant. Enough about me. Tell me something about you,” Dirk said and raised his cup for the first time since they’d sat down.

Todd shrugged. The nerves that had been overshadowed with intrigue were back full force again. “I dunno. The only interesting thing I've ever done was be in a band.”

Dirk absolutely lit up. “Oh do tell, darling.”

“It's ancient history now. Met a couple friends in college. We went on tour once. Called ourselves Mexican Funeral,” Todd explained.

“How festive,” Dirk commented. “What did you play?”

“Guitar, and lead vocals.”

They sat for a moment as they both drank from their cups and took turns looking around the room, out the window, and then back to each other. Eventually, Dirk's emotions bubbled over and he asked, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“What's your philosophy for life?” He chose as his question, and then elaborated. “That's what I want to know, considering you know so much of mine.”

“For life?” Todd looked down and fiddled with a spoon. He wasn't expecting this question, but he wasn't oblivious either. “I don't think we owe anything to each other. Do whatever you want, you know? Unless you hurt someone, then you need to do your best to help them.”

Dirk nodded, considered. Then, he smiled and asked, “Is it too early to ask if you're religious? Or should I have led with that the first time we met?”

Todd flushed with giddy embarrassment. “Never too early for that,” He said, making Dirk giggle. “Um, I was raised Christian. Protestant. But I don't believe in it. God doesn't exist.”

Dirk hummed. “An external life-force actually fits quite well with the stream of creation theory. How we got a book that says ‘don't eat pork or be gay’ is beyond me.”

Todd laughed at that, and watched Dirk watch him as it faded into soft silence again. They were both smiling. After a moment, Todd announced, “I should get going.” 

“Right!” Dirk returned, remembering how the lower classes lived. They both stood and started towards the penthouse door.

“Well this has been nice,” Todd said, stopping and turning towards Dirk. “Thank you.”

Dirk's expression turned bashful. “Thanks for coming. I couldn't exactly meet you in a Starbucks.”

Todd shook his head a little. “This was lovely,” He said, and stepped forwards to pull Dirk into a hug, who was quick to lean into it. When Todd backed up, Dirk looked excited 

and determined. Without getting too far away he asked, “Can I kiss you?”  

Todd felt himself nod. Whisper, “Yes.”

Dirk grabbed Todd's face, closed the space they had just made and kissed him. Deep but soft, their lips and tongues played around. Todd breathed perhaps a bit too loudly and Dirk leaned over him, their bodies pressing closer together.

Then Todd broke it. “I have to work,” He announced, stepping back and raising his hands. Dirk stumbled a little but lived. 

As Dirk smoothed his shirt he asked, “Was that okay?”

“Yes!” Todd answered perhaps a bit too quickly. He stepped back towards Dirk and took one of his hands. “It was...great.”

Dirk smiled. “Good. I thought so too.”

“I really have to go. This was really fun.”

“I'll text you,” Dirk promised.

Todd squeezed his hand, smiled, and left.

-

_ I kissed Dirk Gently. _

It was still running on a loop in Todd's head two hours later. It was only interrupted by Rosa. It was decidedly not interrupted by his group chat, because he was ignoring it. Then, it was interrupted by a commotion by the elevators. When Todd looked, Ed, Ned, and Dirk were striding quickly across the lobby. Ed had one hand on his ear and the other on Dirk's back. Dirk was on the phone, looking concerned and breezing right by the bellhop's desk.

30 seconds later, it was like nothing had happened. 

It seemed like something was wrong. Todd wasn't sure if he wanted to know what.

He opened the group chat. There was a bunch of inquiries and innuendos. He sent, 'We kissed,’ turned off his notifications, and started reorganizing the bellhops desk.

 

+

Dirk

Todd: saw u leave in a rush today. everything ok?

 

Todd sent it and closed his phone, fighting the urge to stare until it lit up. He sunk into the couch, still in his sweaty bellhop uniform, and clicked on the TV.

“— _ Berto, I love you _ —”

“— _ hibernates for 6-10 months _ —”

“— _ with rumours that the main character, a superhuman assassin protected by the government, is based on a true story. _ ”

Todd paused when he married the accusation with the logo for  _ Project Marzanna _ on-screen. 

“ _ These rumours went unfounded, until today. Ken Adams is claiming he works with the real life Project Marzanna, a woman named Bartine Curlish, and that Dev Patel’s character in the film is based on him. This morning, Adams uploaded a YouTube video explaining how Marzanna operates and how the government keeps her existence secret. Adams is also claiming they were taken into CIA custody and tortured, but recently escaped. Online message boards devoted to discussing everything ‘super’ quickly spread the video, which hit 4 million views in just 10 hours. No official response has been issued at this time. _ ”

The newscaster disappeared in favour of a low quality 'storytime’ style Youtube video. The speaker started talking emphatically: “ _ Police, FBI, NSA, CIA _ .  _ I've seen KGB walk away from her on orders from the ICSU. _ ”

Todd shook his head and pulled out his phone. No new messages. 

 

Dirk

Todd: just saw the news. this guy is ridiculous. hope youre ok

 

Todd was exhausted. He shut the TV off and started getting ready for bed. He had just shut the last window when there was a knock at the door. 

It was nearly 1am. Todd frowned, and stealthily made his way across the apartment to look through the peephole. There was a single figure, with blonde hair and a blue suit. He left the chain lock on and pulled the door open just an inch. “Can I help you?”

Neutral expression unchanging, she asked, “Todd Brotzman?”

“...Yeah.”

“I'm here on behalf of Mr. Dirk Gently.”

Todd's stomach jumped. “Oh. Do you want to—”

“This won't take long,” She promised. Then, diplomatically, “You need to stay away from him.”

“...What?”

“You've seen the news. Superhuman rights is Mr. Gently’s full-time job. A relationship with you will only detract from that.”

“Are you… I—”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Brotzman.”

And she left. Todd didn't know what to do, so he shut the door, turned out the lights, and went to bed.


	5. Agents

Dirk

Dirk: Sorry darling! Things are crazy. Dinner tonight @ 8?

Todd: sounds great!

 

Todd woke and responded before remembering any events of the day previous. His shift ended at 7, so he was golden for dinner. When the image of the blonde lady returned to him, Todd froze and thought on it a moment. What was he going to do, ignore Dirk after that kiss yesterday? No. 

He climbed out of bed and set to work getting ready. Nothing to be done but go along.

 

\+ 8 hours and a million annoying guests later

The limo and the restaurant made Todd begin to lament that his fanciest clothes were black jeans and a gray dress shirt, but his fears were quashed when he actually went inside. The dining room was tiny and fancy—typical New York—but totally empty, save for Dirk Gently, who was inexplicably wearing a blue shirt, brown pants, a tie with embroidered peaches on it and a green leather jacket.

Turning around, Dirk immediately pulled Todd into a tight hug, then stood back to give him a once over. “Thank you so much for coming,” He said, pulling out Todd's chair.

“Of course,” Todd returned. He didn't want to beat around the bush, so as Dirk settled in he said, “Hey so, I should just say, someone came by my house last night? She told me to,  uh, stay away from you.”

Dirk's face flooded with recognition. “Yep,” He said, pulling out his phone and scrolling through something. He held up one finger as he scrolled, and scrolled, before finally turning the phone around. “Is this her?”

Todd relaxed. “Yeah.”

Dirk nodded as he slipped the phone away. “That's just my agent, Wilson. Always the melodramatic,” He mused, raising the wine list.

Todd did not raise his wine list. “Why did she do that?”

“Oh I was in meetings all day yesterday for Mona. I was already there so I told her about...you,” Dirk said, choosing his words carefully for once. “She said you were a bad idea and I disagreed so I left.”

“You  _ left _ ?” 

“Uh...yeah,” Dirk said, as if it was obvious and commonplace. “It's not like I'll get fired or anything. Probably. How does a Barone Ricasoli Merlot sound?”

Dirk really was doing this. Defying his agent and taking the proof out for dinner. He really was about to spend $150 on wine to prove a point. “Perfect,” Todd agreed. He didn't know anything about wine. “So, what's up with all this Mona stuff?” He asked, unsure if that was out of place.

Dirk didn't seem to mind. “Right! You've heard the rumours, right?”

“Of course.”

“They're all true. Don't tell anyone. Not that it matters, because the CIA will admit everything soon.”

“What?” Todd couldn't help ask.

Dirk waived a hand. “The universe obviously wants Bart's story told, so it will be,” He said, and continued waving his hand until a waiter bounced over.

 

\+ $300 in food and half a bottle of wine later

“So,  _ Bart _ , is real and tried to kill you, and follows Human Ken around like a puppy?” Todd repeated.

Dirk nodded as he forked another piece of chocolate cake. “They just escaped CIA custody. Ken thinks developing public support is the only way they can be safe.”

“Damn,” Todd said, and sipped his wine. “It sucks all the negative stuff is falling on Mona and the rights campaign.”

“Even if the CIA takes responsibility for releasing her in the first place, the world will still blame one superhuman for existing than the thousands of government employees perpetuating the systematic oppression and exploitation of marginalized people.”

_ Yikes.  _ “So you don't think it's going to work?”

Dirk sighed. “I think people are stupid and don't understand anomalous entities.”

Todd heard himself ask, “Will I sound smart if I agree with you?” Then he saw Dirk smile.

On the limo ride back to the Ridgley, Dirk held Todd's hand and complimented him. They walked inside and paused by Todd's door. They hugged, and kissed, and kissed some more, and kissed again, and kissed. Todd wanted to stay there forever, pressed against the door with tension building between them, but then he remembered how the lower classes lived. He pushed Dirk off and explained, “I have to go. I have to work in the morning.”

Dirk just kept smiling, looking giddy, and nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Good night, Todd,” He said and moved to leave, but Todd gripped his arm.

“Dirk?”

“Hm?”

Not without nerves Todd said, “Don't give up on people. More of us learn about anomalous entities every day.”

Dirk quirked his head as he considered that. Then, “Yes, you do have a point.”

Todd smiled. “Thanks for dinner. Good night.”

“Good night, Todd.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet! 3 more. :)  
> If you're sad Season 3 is out of reach forever, leave me a comment with lots of sad faces :(:(:(:(:(:(:(


	6. Friends

Arthur’s on a Thursday wasn’t usually such a party, but tonight, the regular jazz junkies were joined by Pinky and Silas dancing in the corner, Farah and Tina chatting up a singer, and Lizzie hanging around the next band. That band happened to include Todd’s sister. “Hey!” Amanda called, noticing him first.

“Hey,” Todd returned, looking and sounding confused as she pulled him into a hug. “I didn’t know  _ everyone _ was going to be here.”

Amanda gave him an equally confused, “Yeah!” And then she was gone. 

“Todd!”

“Lizzie, hello,” Todd greeted, accepting her hug, and the drink she was putting into his hand.

“So you’re dating Dirk Gently now?” She asked, quickly and enthusiastically.

Todd smiled. He took a long sip. Then, “Yep.”

“He a good kisser?”

“...I—”

“Hey, Todd! How’s Dirk?” Silas asked, sliding into the conversation with Pinky on his hip.

“Yeah, where’s Dirk?” Pinky echoed—sort of.

“I don’t know,” Todd disclaimed, taking another  _ long _ sip.

Pinky started, “Tell me,” Which earned a look from Silas, but he continued, “Is Dirk a power bottom? I mean, come on.”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Todd said, knowing he was blushing.

-

Rosa

Rosa: plans fell thru. U busy?

Todd: excuse the bee movie reference but do you like jazz?

Rosa: I just did three shots so yes

Todd: come to arthur’s off 7th. My sister is playing!

Rosa: cool i’m there!

-

“So have you met Dirk too?” Tina asked Rosa across the circle of Todd’s friends. They were by the bar, grabbing another round while Amanda set up. Rosa had just arrived with sweatpants and without an explanation.

“No,” She revealed, her signature grin already spreading like butter, “He just invites Todd up to his private suite whenever he can.” As the group hooted and hollered, Todd shook his head and Rosa gave him a wink. When the laughter died down, she asked, “So what's the deal with the pink?”

Pinky and Lizzie shared a look, then announced in bored unison, “Social experiment.” Silas patted each of their shoulders.

-

“I gotta ask,” Farah admitted, 4 drinks deep and nursing a 5th, “Do you like him?”

“...Dirk?” Todd answered after a 3 drink delay. When Farah nodded, he asked, “What do you mean?”

“Like, would you date him if he wasn’t famous?”

Todd could only think of a free, less-intense Dirk, solving crimes and making music for fun. “Yes. Yes. One hundred percent.”

Farah raised one finger. “Why?”

Todd thought on that. “He’s smart. Funny. Sweet. All the good things.”

“You like him?” Farah asked again, with a little smile that made Todd start to think she was messing with him.

“Shut up! I like him!”

 

+

Dirk

Dirk: So many meetings!

Todd: awww :(

Dirk: I hope your thursday wasn't as boring as mine

Todd: i actually went out with friends, it was fun

Todd: tell wilson i say hi ;)

Dirk: That's fun!

Dirk: And I will, she'll love that :)

-

“Who’s that?” Mona asked from her seat across from Dirk in the back of the limo.

“Hm? No one,” He tried, closing his conversation with Todd and trying to stop smiling.

Mona gave him a look. “Dirk.”

“It's not important. We need to be focusing on you and your problems.”

“Is that why we're driving to MGMT’s album release party?” She teased.

Shaking his head, Dirk knew she was right. That was Wilson's excuse, but he couldn't think of his own. “It’s Todd, the one you met at El Museo.”

“Oooh, he was cute. Why didn’t you invite him?”

“This isn’t really his scene,” Dirk defended, “Plus, I’m trying to be a good friend here, okay?”

“You  _ are _ a good friend, Dirk,” Mona promised, shifting forwards in her seat. They had almost arrived. “And friends tell each other when they’re dating people. You know Dev, right?”

The question was still processing in his brain when _Marzanna_ Co-Star Dev Patel pulled open the door to the limo and helped Mona get out. Cameras flashed. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and they went inside. 

Dirk opened his phone and looked at his texts with Todd. The moment passed, he turned off his phone, and went inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh another short one. Sorry this took so long to post! The last two should be here soon :)


	7. Chauffeurs

If you asked Todd and he trusted you enough to give an honest answer, the thing he was working on the most was selfishness. His early twenties were literally just a collection of selfish mistakes, but he was trying his best, and had monthly e-Transfers to Amanda to prove it. Todd had friends and coworkers who liked him. He really appreciated community and trust.

So he could afford a little narcissism, reading gossip websites that were  _ sure _ Dirk was dating someone while he waited for Rosa outside the bathroom, right?

“Ready?” She asked, zipping up her coat.

Todd quickly stuff his phone away and banished all daydreams of the photograph of him and Dirk multiplying. “Yep.”

They set off towards the back door of The Plaza. “How was ballroom duty?” Rosa asked, referring to the menial task of moving tables and chairs that Todd was assigned today.

“Terrible. I thought Aliyah was going to murder me.”

“Well, I was getting similar vibes from Mr. Jones, so.”

They pushed outside and gave quick waves to the chefs smoking next to the door. They started towards the street. “Hey,” Rosa said, “Are you doing anything now? I keep feeling this urge to listen to jazz music.”

Todd smiled. “That’s amazing, but I don't know. Dirk asked if I was busy earlier, and now he's not responding,” Todd explained, feeling his the notificationless brick in his pocket.

But as they reached the road, a sleek black car stopped directly in front of him, and the driver window rolled down to reveal Ed. “Mr. Brotzman.”

Todd looked to Rosa, who seemed a bit gobsmacked. Then, his phone rang. Todd barely checked the name before answering, “Hello?”

“ _ Hello? Todd? _ ”

“Dirk, it's me,” Todd tried, and Rosa's face split open. 

“ _ Yes, sorry for the short notice. I'm house sitting tonight for my good friend Raven-Symoné, and I thought we could have a slumber party _ .”

Rosa started poking Todd's arm incessantly. He swatted her away and tried to focus. “Uh, yeah. Sounds good.”

There was a small pause, and when Dirk answered he sounded excited. “ _ Great _ . _ See you soon _ .”

“See ya,” Todd echoed, and clicked it off. “Looks like I'm spoken for.” 

“Oh my god!” Rosa exclaimed, “You're dating a celebrity!”

“I know, right?” Todd teased, pulling her into a hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah see you,” Rosa said, as he skipped down and let himself into the car.

-

20 minutes later, Todd was knocking on the door of an Upper East Side penthouse condo. Dirk Gently opened it. “Hello, darling,” He said. All Todd could see was a sliver of the condo and Dirk, in that grey hoodie and pink fleece pyjama pants. His hair was pulled back in a silver plastic headband.

“...Hi.” Todd said.

Dirk moved and pulled the door open. “Come on in.”

Todd went inside. The foyer opened to a huge great room, plush couches giving way to an ornate dining set. Two walls were full of big windows. A third held a ridiculously large television.

“I know you just came from work,” Dirk assured, and Todd swiveled to look back at him. “Pyjamas are in the master bath down the hall. Then it's movies, junk food, Buzzfeed quizzes, et cetera.”

“Cool,” Todd confirmed, and started for the hall, but then stopped. “Are we going to sleep at any point?”

Dirk took the opportunity to smirk and say, “If you want to.”

-

They were halfway through a package of Red Vines and a game of backgammon when Dirk asked, “Are you working tomorrow?”

“No, actually,” Todd answered, moving two pieces 3 and then 3 more spaces.

“Wilson wants to talk,” Dirk said, collecting and rolling the dice, “About privacy and things. Tomorrow morning, if that works.”

“Yeah, ok.” Todd watched as Dirk took out one of his pieces. He realized he was losing, and badly. “So does Wilson, like, control your whole life?”

Dirk laughed as he handed over the dice. “She wishes. She only tolerates me because she wanted the whole superhuman set,” He joked.

Todd figured that meant Mona and the Rowdy 3 had the same agent. Dirk’s anecdote made sense. But when Todd thought about Dirk, Mona, and the Rowdies, he thought about someone else now too. “What about Bart and Ken?”

Dirk looked up from the board, interested. “What?”

“They're in the public eye, and Bart is,  _ you know _ . Wouldn't some professionals on their side help?” 

Dirk drew circles in the air with a Red Vine. After a moment, he said, “No. Bart couldn't afford it, and she's not going to make money doing appearances or anything.”

“Mona Wilder has earned over 5 million dollars in the past 5 years. And, I know you solved that case for that Swedish diplomat.”

“...Are you saying Mona and I should bankroll a professional PR campaign for Bartine Curlish and her assassin-to-English translator?”

“I am saying,” Todd started, moving the items between them on the couch and scooting over to curl into Dirk’s side, “You care about them. And Mona is your best friend. That’s all.”

They sat still for a moment, breathing, listening. Then Dirk said very quietly, “Mona isn’t my best friend.”

Todd didn’t say anything, and Dirk didn’t offer any more. He hoped he hadn’t overstepped or anything. He sat up a little, just enough to look at Dirk.

Dirk didn't look upset. He looked content, but maybe a little nervous. 

A thought popped into Todd’s head.  _ I should kiss him _ . So he did. 

The soft touch of his lips on Dirk’s sent tingles through Todd’s entire body. A soft hand found Todd’s hair, and Todd took that as an invitation to readjust the kiss and push his tongue into Dirk’s mouth. Dirk responded quietly with his own tongue, and then quietly with a moan. Todd’s position, crouched next to Dirk, was awkward, but he pressed ever forwards, kissing and licking into Dirk’s mouth.

After a minute, Dirk put a hand on Todd’s shoulder. Todd sat back a little. 

“We should stop,” Dirk said, objectively.

Todd nodded. “Sure.” He readjusted into Dirk’s side again, and snatched the remote control from the back of the couch. “Wanna watch  _ Fixer Upper _ ?”

 

\+ 10 hours of cuddling, 5 soft kisses, and 1 flipped house later

“Good morning Ed,” Dirk greeted as they slid into the backseat.

Ed just stared through the rearview. “Good morning Mr. Gently. I wasn't aware Mr. Brotzman would be joining us.”

“Well, he is,” Dirk answered. Ed didn't respond, just started driving. Dirk smiled at Todd and took his hand.

The ride was quiet, save for the pop music coming softly from the radio. Todd enjoyed the cars-eye-view of Manhattan and Dirk rubbing his thumb gently over Todd's knuckles.

Shortly, they arrived, getting out of the car and strolling quickly into the lobby. As soon as they crossed the threshold, an elevator dinged, and Wilson stormed out. “Are you serious?” She called. Dirk sped up to meet her, but Wilson raised her hand to Todd, ordering, “Don't move,” So Todd stopped.

Dirk's voice was low. “Wilson, come on. Let's talk, you, me, and Todd. We can work something out.”

Security guards started appearing out of doors and crevices. Todd didn't move.  _ Dirk lied to me? _

“No, Dirk, we’ve been over this. It's him or your career.”

Dirk was quiet for a moment. Wilson just stared at him. Todd couldn't look away. “Wilson…” Dirk eventually said. She didn't waver.

All Todd knew was that he felt  _ something _ when Dirk turned around, looking absolutely crushed. It was either because he knew Dirk was about to tell him to go home, or because Dirk looked so sad about it.

Dirk walked over. He didn't look Todd in the eye. He apologized, and said Ed could take him home.

“Being in tune with the deeper nuances of the universe has shaped me so much, I don't know who I'd be without it,” Todd quoted, hearing his voice quiver once. “You said that, and I know, this is your life.”

Dirk looked upset, like he wanted to say something.

“Have a good one,” Todd said, and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le drame! Omg!
> 
> I spend way too much time writing this stuff. I'm almost done a 4k soulmate AU. Comment if you want a teaser posted with this final chapter!


	8. Romantics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ends with a teaser for my next story :)

“ _ So you didn't break up, but you broke up _ .”

Todd sighed. “Yes. No. M-maybe. I don't know.”

“ _ Dude, that's literally every possible answer _ ,” Amanda teased over the phone.

Todd smiled. He watched the muted TV for a second, as the talk show host harassed audience members. Then he said, “Come over soon. Don't let me wallow.”

“ _ I won't _ .”

“Thanks. Love you, bye.”

“ _ Love you too _ .”

_ Click _ .

Tossing his phone aside, Todd reached for the bag of barbeque chips. He tore them open and unmuted the TV. 

The thing was, Todd knew it was a break-up because he knew he was going to eat the entire bag, and the chips were his break-up food. He could wallow for a little, right?

“— _ Linda from sales, thank you so much, you're fantastic. Alright! Now, it's the moment you've all been waiting for. _ ”

Todd shoved a handful of chips into his mouth.

“ _ Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome everyone's favourite psychic, Dirk Gently! _ ” The host announced, gesturing across the stage. But the special guest curtain didn’t move. It sat, for the better part of ten seconds as the audience clapped. “ _ Dirk Gently, everyone! _ ” They repeated. People clapped. “ _ Is, is he stuck _ ?” 

Then Todd jumped as something slammed behind him. He turned to look—someone was breaking in through his window. Todd launched himself up.

But when spun around, he could see the whole torso sticking into his living room and saying, “ _ Hiiiii _ ,” In an accent Todd knew all too well.

“Shit! Dirk,” Todd stated, throwing a glance back at his television. He moved to help Dirk climb the rest of the way inside. “Why aren't you on T.V.? Why are you wet?” Todd asked, hands coming away watery.

“It's raining,” Dirk answered. “I was throwing stones but you didn't hear, I guess.”

When Todd looked, it was indeed raining. He reached to shut the window. “You can't just break into my apartment.”

“Well, clearly, I can,” Dirk said. Todd looked him over as his brain was just starting to catch up. Dirk was here, pale and wet, throwing stones…

He shook his head a little. “What is this?” 

Dirk's face scrunched up. “Do you really not know what a grand romantic gesture looks like?”

“This does not look like a romantic—”

Todd stopped talking when Dirk grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. Deep and loving, Dirk kept a fast hold on Todd, pressing down onto him. Dirk's lips were cold, and his hair was dripping onto Todd's face.

Eventually, Dirk released. He let go of Todd's shirt and leaned back, quirking an eyebrow. “How about now?”

-

“I don't owe anyone anything,” Dirk said, with his head laying on Todd's chest. “My whole life has been about  _ being psychic _ .”

Todd petted his hair slowly. “Don't you want to help Mona? And the rights campaign?”

“Yes!” Dirk exclaimed immediately, sounding affronted. But then he snuggled a little closer to Todd and went on, “No. Maybe? I don't know, but I do know that want to be with you... I couldn't let you go.”

Among the warm feelings that filled Todd’s chest, a thought popped up. “Is that a psychic thing?” He asked, hoping it was okay.

Dirk chuckled. “The universe would never send me you,” He said, with quite a bit of enthusiasm.

“Oh, ok,” Todd said quietly.

Dirk looked up at Todd and said, “No, it's a good thing! When I...see things, they don't help me, ever. It's always something else I have to figure out. It's like it's designed to make my life difficult, and you make me way too happy to be a part of that.”

“Oh, ok,” Todd said, bashfully this time, and looked away. Dirk settled back into Todd’s chest and breathed. With his arms wrapped around Dirk’s body, another question came to Todd. “Hey, can you tell me about your scar?”

“Which one?”

“Oh my god.”

“You mean my shoulder, right?”

“...If you want to—”

“It all started when I got hired to prevent a very wealthy man’s murder…”

 

**THE END**

 

+++

_ Can siblings be friends? Does destiny exist beyond soulmates? Double Stuf or Thin Mint Oreos? Mexican Funeral frontman Todd Brotzman talks all this and more with Guitar World Magazine. _

[Image: Todd Brotzman is nothing but a pair of sweatpants and a guitar. Across his entire chest, he has a tattoo of the words "Great Show," in ornate script. He is having the time of his life.]

Todd Brotzman is happy, young, new to the music scene, and ready for anything. He is gracious and quiet, but within minutes of meeting him, he seems like an old friend. I didn't realize asking about his musical origin story would involve almost every personal aspect of his life, but he has no problem getting right into it.

"My parents were like, someone's going to say this to you someday, blah blah, that's how you know you're in love with them. So if someone's telling me 'great show,' you know, I'm making music, probably. And then, get this, I was really good at it."

GW: So you had to go into music? Like, it's your destiny?

TB: What? Nobody knows that shit. The universe is just...we'll never understand it.

GW: Fair. Okay. Was there a point you knew you really wanted to make music?

TB: I wrote my first song when I was 14. Just me and my little Yamaha. I played it for my sister and she's been my biggest fan ever since.

GW: You and Amanda—you live together, she does the social media for the Funeral, and I’ve heard she’s is joining you on tour. I think all of us with siblings want to know, how do you handle it?

TB: We still fight, okay? We have no problem calling each other out. But uh, we’re best friends. Not many siblings are, but we are, so we make it work.

GW: Even when that special someone comes along? Amanda won’t be on the back-burner?

TB: No way. They’ll love her as much as I do.

GW: What does Amanda think of your mark?

TB: She thinks…she has a job because of it. [Chuckles.]  Well, my parents always treated my music different than anything else I did, or anything she did. You know, leave Todd alone, he’s practicing. So even when she was a kid, she knew something was up. As for the romantic side of things…just not relevant yet. 

GW: And the parents.

TB: The parents.

GW: What’s their role in all this?

TB: Yeah, they were supportive. My parents were terrified that my soulmate would be some trashy groupie. They paid for classical piano, classical guitar, but I love punk and alternative. So they settled for comprehensive sex ed instead.

GW: Progressive.

TB: Unfortunately, for those who are not.

GW: That’s true. So then, what’s the Todd Brotzman game plan for the near future?

TB: Other than eating as many thin mint oreos as my agent will allow me? Well, I haven't met my soulmate yet, so I have to keep playing until the right person comes up to me after a show.

GW: That’s a fair assumption.

TB: But they'll probably just inspire me even more and I'll keep making music anyways.

GW: The Brotzman renaissance...Brazilian Seance.

TB: Trademark that. Or I’ll take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The first chapter of "Great Show" should be going up soon.


End file.
